Little Dragon
by TsubasaQ
Summary: Draco engineers his independence from his father and Voldemort. But what does he do now that he has no family name behind him? Rated M for language, gore, dramatic situations, and possible adult content.
1. Chapter 1

**Little Dragon**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters that you know from the Harry Potter series. I am not JK Rowling because I would be publishing this for money if I were.

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Chapter 1

Draco sighed as he stared blankly at the stone wall of his bedroom chamber. Why did it always seem that his father exploded his rage on Draco whenever he was struggling in anything, even just the small things that showed he was being challenged? It seemed that he expected him to be perfect in every way. "Why can't he just leave me alone? Why can't he accept the fact that I'm not perfect?" he muttered to the wall.

There was no way to escape Lucius Malfoy as long as Draco was in Malfoy Manor. He'd thought about taking his broom and flying off, but some how his father had bound him to the grounds unless Draco was in his presence. He was just going to have to wait until school came around to be free of him. Luckily, the Hogwarts Express departed for the castle in a week, so Draco would be free. He longed for the day the train would take him back to Slytherin dungeon.

But then, of course, there would be Potter to deal with. Damn it to Hell, Draco found it difficult to outright hate the boy anymore. Yes, he still acted as though he did because of his father and Housemates, but he admired Potter for the fact that he'd beaten the Dark Lord four times and came back alive every time. Draco could still act the snot-nosed brat, but he'd had a change of heart over the summer holidays. The problem was going to be that Potter, Weasley and Granger would hate him.

Weasley. Now there was a person he hated. Just because he was a Weasley, too. It was an old familial prejudice, Draco knew. Even though he was so completely anti-Malfoy-traditions, the hate of anything Weasley had been driven so far into his head that it would take a miracle to change it. Draco had earlier decided to try and change any Malfoy mindset, but this was one he wasn't sure he could.

There was a soft knock at his door. "Draco? Dear? Your father would like to speak with you." It was his mother, Narcissa. Draco knew that when his father was involved with a so-called request, he had no choice but to do as he was "asked".

"Yes, Mother. I'll be right down." Draco sighed as he climbed off of his bed. He knew that this, like any other discussion with his father, would most likely become violent. Draco was sure that he would wind up with a scar this time, given that his father had recently begun to talk to him about the Dark Lord. He knew his father wanted him to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. A shudder wracked his body as he thought about it. Given the option a few years ago, and he would have jumped at the chance to be in his father's group. Now, Draco didn't want any part of Lord Voldemort or the Death Eaters or any of the rest of it.

Draco opened the big wooden doors that led to his father's library. There was a sense of old power in the room. Draco paid it no mind, he knew that was why his father used the library to talk to him; it gave him a sense of power and control over his son. It no longer worked on Draco, but Lucius was too dense to figure that out. Draco laughed inwardly at his father's stupidity while keeping a straight, emotionless face. He used this façade with his father because it annoyed him when he was working for an emotional response from Draco. Sometimes, though, Draco used the opposite emotional response of which his father wanted to doubly piss him off. Draco felt like he incited the riots between himself and Lucius many times, but it didn't matter to him. He would anger his father whenever he could because he enjoyed it.

"Draco." Lucius drawled. "I've been waiting for you for some time. What kept you?"

"I was changing robes when Mother said you wanted to speak with me. I was unfinished. I doubted that you wanted to see me half-dressed." Draco lied. He had indeed changed robes, but he had done so hours beforehand. His father did not press him on the matter, but continued on his own path.

"You realize that your sixteenth birthday is approaching quickly; you shall be above the age where you are restricted from doing magic outside of school." Lucius pointed out, his back to his son. "You will also be able to take your Apparition test." Draco knew all of this, but made no sound of recognition. Lucius knew he was listening.

"The Dark Lord has taken an interest in your talents." Lucius continued. Draco cursed silently in his head. He knew the discussion would turn to Voldemort. His father would now proceed to tell him for what Voldemort wanted him.

Draco decided to head his father off. "I have told you before," Draco said, his voice emotionless, "that I have no interest in serving nor do I have any love for the Dark Lord. I will not serve him for any purpose." Draco could see the anger building up in his father. Lucius' fists clenched, he stood impossibly straight.

"Draco," Lucius said, his voice low and threatening, "I have told you every time you have said those words that you do not have a choice in the matter any longer. The Dark Lord has chosen you and, as you are my son, you will do as he wishes, one way or another!" Lucius' voice crescendoed to a fortissimo with every word, as his voice quickened. Draco was unfazed, which enraged his father even more.

Draco looked stonily at his father's angry face. "I no longer care what you do our say, Lucius Malfoy. As far as I am concerned, I am not and never have been your son. You are quite possibly the most controlling, most domineering father this world has ever seen. I shall not listen to nor shall I obey any wishes, desires, nor orders from either you or the Dark Lord."

Lucius' hand landed on Draco's cheek like a ton of bricks, but Draco stood his ground. He had learned to fight with his hands, even learning to deflect certain spells with his mind. Draco fell into a fighting stance, quickly disarming and immobilizing his father, and said in a quiet, even, emotionless voice, "I no longer have any love for you, and no longer am I a Malfoy. Release me from the grounds, and I shall never return to this place. Inform your master that I shall not join him, nor shall I follow his orders. Do this, or I shall kill you on the spot, which will release these charms that hold me here. It is your choice. Do or die."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Draco gazed down at his father's shocked expression with a blank face as he held Lucius motionless on the floor, waiting for him to speak. Lucius was fighting to regain his composure and to process the fact that his son had disarmed and immobilized him without a wand and that he could probably be killed by a twitch of his own son's hand. Draco saw the turmoil in his father's mind and almost smiled. Almost, if it had not been so vital to his plan that he kept his face expressionless.

Lucius chuckled nervously. "Draco. Son. You can't be serious. You-you wouldn't hurt your own father."

Draco was becoming frustrated with Lucius, but he didn't show it. "Obviously, Lucius, you were not listening very well when you were still in a position to make the choice. I said that, as far as I am concerned, I am not, nor have I ever been, your son. Therefore, I do not consider you my father. You are merely a man who stands between me and my freedom. Release me from these grounds or else I shall release myself by relieving you of your life."

Lucius' eyes grew wide. He was truly afraid of this boy who would kill him without remorse. He was so afraid, in fact, that he could not believe it. He grinned shakily. "Draco, let me up. Stop playing around, child. You don't mean what you say, you couldn't kill me." Just then, a bloodcurdling scream of pain ripped from Lucius' lips. Draco had just broken his leg and broken through the skin. There was now a bloody stick of bone protruding from Lucius' thigh. Draco had twitched his wrist.

"Oh, couldn't I?" Draco looked down at this injured, bleeding, immobile Death Eater. "Lucius Malfoy, you shame yourself. I should have believed that you could take threats seriously. But obviously not from anyone but your master." Draco looked at his father, expressionless as ever. He didn't even feel the least bit sorry for this sad pile of flesh on the ground in front of him. Lucius became paler every second from loss of blood. "Come now, Lucius. Isn't your life worth more to you than having the boy you call your son bound to this house? You will die from blood loss rather quickly, so I shall be free one way or the other." For the first time, Draco's face assumed an expression: a smirk. He chuckled lightly, a threatening sound to Lucius' ears, Draco knew.

Lucius gasped for air. He knew he was dying, and it was his own son that had done this to him. "Okay, Draco. You win. Give me my wand, and I shall free you from the house."

Draco stopped the hand holding the wand just outside of his father's reach, and spoke threateningly and quietly to him. "You understand that, if you do not free me from these magical bonds, I shall kill you on the spot. I know the incantation, so do not do anything else."

Lucius nodded. He understood, and he would not underestimate his son again. He took the wand and muttered "_Bondus relecus._"

Golden shackles appeared around Draco's wrists, the chain of light broke, and the shackles disappeared. Draco nodded at his father, retrieved his wand, healed Lucius and walked out of Malfoy Manor forever.

Draco breathed a contented sigh. Free from home at last. _I am free. For the first time in my life, I am __**free**_thought Draco. Now the only thing to do was to find a place to stay for the remainder of the week. As Draco wandered along the crowded London street, he was glad he'd thought to get some Muggle clothes. Well-made ones, of course.

Draco had found a store that suited his tastes and mood. Hot Topic, he believed was the name. He hadn't kept the bag for any longer than to find a place to change. He'd kept his cloak; it seemed to go well with his new clothes.

People seemed to look longer at him than they usually would on a street like this, especially the teenage girls. He'd thought to pick up a pair of dark sunglasses along with the clothes. He thought they completed his new look. Nodding at a group of girls who were smiling and waving at him, he quickly turned his head and swept down the dark alleyway he knew would take him safely into Knockturn Alley.

The shady corridor took him into a rather dark and dank pub at the south end of Knockturn Alley: The Severed Hand. Draco walked fluidly up to the bartender and gazed at the old man steadily through his glasses. The old bartender felt the gaze of this young wizard disconcerting, considering that his eyes were not visible.

"Whaddaya want?" the old man croaked violently.

Draco said in his icy, fluid drawl, "I want you to close the doorway to Malfoy Manor." He paused as the old man gaped at him. "Permanently."

"You- I- That can't be done!" the bartender stammered. "Who are you?!" His voice was high and full of panic.

"I am Draco. My _former _surname was Malfoy, but I do not belong to that family any longer." Sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose, he looked pointedly at the old man. "By my own choice, of course, dear man."

The bartender drew himself up as high as he could stand. "Only a member of the family in question can order me to do that." He declared proudly.

"Fine." Draco replied. "Then I shall have to do it myself, and so I shall."

"NO! WAIT!" the old man cried after Draco as he swept down a badly-lit corridor. Draco did not slow his pace, but continued briskly and gracefully on his way.

"HALT!" a deeper and more authoritative voice called, and Draco, taken aback by the commanding male voice, stopped and turned, graceful as ever. So graceful, in fact, that he looked as though he'd been expecting the call. He smirked when he saw the tall, dark-skinned man holding his wand at Draco's head.

"My dear man, Artimedoris Colfer! Am I glad to see you!" Draco laughed. "Put down your wand, you crazy man!"

Artimedoris looked stunned. "Draco? Little Dragon, is that you?!" The great black man laughed heartily. "Come here, you little dagger!"

Draco laughed as he ran to the man who was like a true father to him. After a rib-crushing hug from Artimedoris, the tall black man held Draco by his shoulders at arm's length. "I heard about what you did to your father at the Manor, Draco," he said seriously. Draco tried to turn away, but Artimedoris' strong grip held him in place. "That was not a good idea. You know his wrath, he'll be on your heels like a pack of wolves."

"Art, that man is too afraid of me to do anything to me. He'll leave me alone. He doesn't want what I would do to him to happen." Draco's face was expressionless again, but there was a glimmer of the will to kill in his eyes. Artimedoris saw it. "I won't bargain his life again. He is no longer my father. I have no father anymore." Draco looked away from the big African man who held his shoulders.

There was concern on Artimedoris' face, and Draco couldn't bear to look at him. He felt as though he were going to cry if he did. Artimedoris pulled Draco closer into a big bear hug. Draco's eyes squeezed out the gathering moisture, and he cried into Artimedoris' robes, letting out his pain and anger as he would not with anyone else.

"Come on, Draco. You'll always have a home with me." Artimedoris started to lead Draco on with him, but Draco wouldn't move.

"No, Art. You're like a father to me, but I couldn't stay with you. I couldn't retain my freedom and independence if I did. If you want to give me somewhere to stay, put me up somewhere in an alley." Draco was obstinate, and no amount of pleading could change his mind.

Artimedoris sighed, and his shoulders sagged. "Very well, Draco. You win. I'm not going to fight this battle anymore with you. I'll put you in a room at The Leaky Cauldron. I don't trust this place. Come."

Draco nodded, following Artimedoris. It struck him how very much like a good father Artimedoris was to him. Draco gave a small smile at the thought. _Maybe, if I ever have the inclination to try having a father again, I'll move in with Artimedoris. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. __**If**__ I ever have that inclination again. _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As Artimedoris and Draco strode into The Leaky Cauldron, Tom, the usually friendly bartender and owner, walked over and looked at the two darkly. "Colfer, why did you bring a Malfoy in here?" Tom asked, clearly upset. "You know I don't like that family."

Draco interrupted before Artimedoris could reply. "First off, Tom, I am no longer affiliated with those of that bloodline, either by birth or marriage, nor am I any longer considered part of the family." Tom looked surprised. "Basically, Tom, I disowned myself." Draco chuckled when he thought of that.

Artimedoris looked at the obviously shocked Tom and said, "His father was _mistreating _him, shall we say. Draco was to receive his Dark Mark on his birthday and refused to do any such thing. He nearly killed his father to be freed."

Tom was becoming weak, Draco could see it. It was shock, of course. No surprises there. Draco flashed him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, not wanting the news to make the kindly bartender refuse him a room. "As long as nobody tries to make me join the Dark Lord or bind me to somewhere, there won't be any trouble, I can promise you."

"Tom, I need a place for Draco to stay. Could he perhaps have a room here? It'll only be for a week, until Hogwarts starts back." Artimedoris struck whilst the calming effects of Draco's promise still held.

"Very well, Artimedoris. He can stay here." Tom looked at Draco sternly. "No trouble-making, else you'll find yourself out on the street."

Draco nodded. "I understand, sir. I intend no trouble for you. In fact, if everything goes as I wish, no one will even know I am here." Draco's face and voice were utterly sincere. an unusual occurrence.

Tom was apparently satisfied with Draco's promise and nodded. "You may have room 13. Your things will be taken up shortly."

Artimedoris smiled. _Master Draco must have changed. He wouldn't usually be so sincere. _

Draco sensed the change in himself, almost surprised. Almost, since he had pushed himself so hard to become everything that the Malfoys were not. Draco was proud of himself for what changing. His biological father was no gentleman, but Draco had taken the rules of being such to heart.

_Ha ha, _he thought, _take that you Death Eating bastard! I can be a gentleman and earn my respect, but you have no respect. You have to frighten people into doing as you wish. _Draco smiled to himself. _I guess that proves the old adage: "You'll catch more fairies with honey than with vinegar."_

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The next morning, Draco climbed out of bed, completely refreshed and immediately aware that he was a free man. The memories of last night flooded into his mind. He smiled, really smiled, at his reflection and, leaving out the customary gel, let his long, platinum-blond hair fall loosely down his back and walked out of the room in search of some breakfast.

_God, this feels good. No oppressive fathers, no evil, power-hungry family to tie me back, just me. Just Draco. _He was enjoying his freedom, but realized that he would still be recognized as a Malfoy. _Number one on the to-do list, however: Get a new surname and legalize it. After all, I am sixteen; I can do that without parental consent. Probably out to change my whole name while I'm at it, though… _Draco rounded the corner into the pub, almost running headlong into Ron Weasley.

Draco laughed apologetically. "Sorry, Ron. Must not have been paying attention very well." He smiled genially, determined not to carry over his old familial prejudices. "You all right, then?"

Ron stood stock still, shock written openly across his face. He finally found his voice and said shakily, "Malfoy?"

Draco reeled slightly at the name, looking disgusted with the sound of it. He shook his head. "No. Not Malfoy, at least, not anymore. Right now, it's just Draco. That'll be changing, too, soon."

"Hey, Ron!" Harry Potter's voice called out from around the corner. "You all right, mate?"

Ron slowly turned his head and nodded, still rather shaky from surprise. "You need any help, Ron?" Draco asked. "You looked like you were headed somewhere fast."

"Uh… Sure. You really wanna help?" Ron inquired, still disbelieving. Draco nodded. "Well, okay then… You can help, I guess."

Draco followed Ron upstairs to room 11, just down the corridor from his room. "This is mine and Harry's room. We needed to get our school lists, but we can't find them. Mum didn't immediately get hold of them, and we lost them." Ron looked embarrassed slightly, telling this to Draco. "I'll look through Harry's stuff. I really doubt he'd trust you."

Draco shrugged it off. "No worries about that. I'll look through yours. And, no, I won't make any snide comments," he assured Ron with a smirk.

After about ten minutes, Ron had found Harry's list (it had been closed in a book) but neither he nor Draco had had any luck finding his. Ron threw up his hands in defeat. "I give up, Draco. There's no chance of finding it now."

Draco chuckled. "You'd be amazed, Ron. But let's stop looking for now anyway. I still haven't eaten. I'm starving!"

Just then, someone knocked on the door. "Come in," Ron called. The door opened slowly to reveal a rather sleepy-looking red-headed girl. Draco recognized her immediately as Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister. "Oh. Hey, Gin."

Ginny ran a sleepy hand over her eye and gazed blearily at her brother. "Ron," she said, sounding tired as she looked, "Mum wants you to get your books and things today. She isn't feeling well."

"What?" Ron looked a bit surprised. "She was fine last night! What'd she do?" Ron muttered to himself as he strode quickly out the door. Draco sat on the floor with Ron's things scattered about him, almost hoping Ginny would notice him, and hoping that she wouldn't at the same time.

Ginny started to turn out the door but caught sight of the blond figure sitting on the floor with his legs doubled up under him. "Who're you?" Ginny inquired lazily, cocking her head to the side.

"Uhm… Draco. Just Draco." He looked almost ashamed, praying that she wouldn't despise him when she recognized who he was.

"Draco… I know a Draco. He's a Slytherin, though. Last name of Malfoy."

Draco rose from the floor and pulled back his waist-length locks. "Yeah, I know you do. He's me."

Ginny gasped. "Draco Malfoy?" She backed slowly away. "What're you doing in Ron's room?"

Draco held out a hand comfortingly. This had been what he was afraid of. Ginny would recognize him and refuse him a second chance. "I'm not a Malfoy anymore, Ginny. I don't have a surname any longer. I promise I won't give any of your family any problems. I've sworn off my family's animosities."

Ginny was obviously too sleepy to have a problem with him. She replied simply, "Oh. Okay. Well, you'd better get downstairs if you want something to eat. Ron's probably told everyone anyway."

He nodded and followed her down the stairwell. As they turned into the pub, Ginny's mother asked her who her friend was.

Ginny looked at her simply. "This is Draco."


End file.
